A Life in Service

Hey there! Another installment in this series where I write deaths for certain characters. ing Daario, Barristan, Howland, and Stannis is today Davos Seaworth. Getting a bit of a sausage fest in there, so if anyone wants to suggest any female characters be done then you'd be more than welcome!

I hope you enjoy this one anyways! Have a nice day all!

The view from the top of the Wall was, even now, one of the best things that Davos Seaworth had ever seen. Even after the thirty years that he had served here, as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He still came up her every evening, just as day turned to twilight, to gaze out over the Haunted Forest and to see the sun sink beneath the distant Frostfangs.

The Wall was truly a marvel, even if it hadn’t been truly whole for the last thirty years. The damage that had been done at Eastwatch… Well, that was irreparable. He had long since confined himself to that knowledge. There was nothing he could do.

After the War for the Dawn, he had been chosen to come north and take control of what had been left of the Night’s Watch. The previous Lord Commander had died fighting, and most of the wildlings who had manned Eastwatch had been added to the army of the Night King. There had been slightly more than twenty brothers of the Night’s Watch who had survived the war. Many of them had been boys going into the fighting, though they had come out of it as men.

A further twenty four had ed his band to come back north and reclaim the Wall. Many of those men had lost everything in that war, and were looking to put those lives behind them. Amongst them were Ser Jorah Mormont, who now served as the Commander at Oakenshield, and Theon Greyjoy, who had taken control of what was left of Eastwatch. The Watch before the war had been dying a slow and ungraceful demise, but now it flourished. People had seen the threat and they were willing to give their lives to protect their families.

He had been able to regarrison five of the abandoned castles within the first four years of his service, with Oakenshield and Queensgate manned within two years after that. Now all but the Nightfort had a garrison of some sort, and the Wall was considered home to seven and a half thousand fighting men, with approximately two thousand of those being highborn knights. The new Maester believed that the Watch would command ten thousand men within the next fifteen years. He would not live to see that.

“You called for me, Lord Commander.”

Davos turned slowly, though he recognised the dulcet Northern tones of the voice. He found Ser Jorah Mormont stood a few feet from him, his black cloak wrapped tight around him. They were both old men now, and the wind up here was biting cold.

“I rode as swiftly as I could from Oakenshield when we received the raven.”

Ser Jorah was a loyal and true man, Davos knew, and he could ably handle the blade that he wore at his hip, despite his age. He had lost his queen during the War for the Dawn, and so he had given his life to protect the realm instead of one person.

“I thought you would, for it is urgent news with which I summon you. The future of the Watch is entwined with the future of the Seven Kingdoms. When Jon Snow took his seat upon the Iron Throne he was a reluctant king. When I took my seat here I did it reluctantly, for what was life with fifty men alone for company. I gave my life in service still.”

“And the realm thanks you for it, Lord Commander. As did Jon Snow during his last visit. Why do you call me here to speak as such?”

Ser Jorah was right, of course. Davos knew who invaluable he had been to the Watch and to strengthening control on the Wall. They lived peaceably now with most of the Free Folk who had chosen to return to their homes, but there would always be a few troublemakers…

“As you know, Ser Jorah, I have never been much of a fighter. During the last Thenn raid I took a mace to the chestplate. I was fortunate to survive, Maester Marton said. I fear that it is taking its toll now. I am an old man, not built for fighting and warfare. My time is coming, and when it is done I want you to hold Castle Black and continue the legacy of what we fought for all those years ago.”

Ser Jorah had his head bowed as Davos told him of his plight. For the last sentence he raised it and opened his eyes, wide as could be.

“It is not your place to choose who succeeds you-“

“That is true, my friend, but I like to think that in my thirty years of service my word has come to mean something to these people. I have left a letter in my drawer that will be read out at the choosing ceremony, endorsing you to continue my work. If you would accept it, that is. You can tell me on the morrow. I will give you some time to think. It is a great responsibility that I offer you, Jorah.”

And so Davos shuffled away from the shocked knight. He entered the swinging cage, and was lowered down. His knees had long since become too stiff for him to climb the stairs. As he exited the cage he gave his thanks to Scully, the red headed boy who was manning the winch that morning. The boy was a new recruit who had been raised in the Gift.

He entered the Lord Commander’s Keep and climbed the stairs there until he reached his private chambers. He stroked his hand across the sword which lay on his mantle. He had seen it glow once, after it had been plunged into the god’s flames.

“Stannis.”

He whispered the name under his breath, before moving his hand to the wooden stag toy which sat next to the blade. He clutched it to his breast and bowed his head in shame and sadness.

“Shireen.”

He took his place in the armchair which stood next to the fire. It was dying out. There was nought but embers left, but they were enough to warm him as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Hours ed, and the embers, one by one, died out in the darkness, until they were cold and no more.

Davos Seaworth went with them.